Fabrice Georges Coombs (
ofcatsandfate) wrote2014-05-29 08:28 pm
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I knew the pathway like the back of my hand. {For Demetri}
Fabrice is exhausted when the witches' meeting finally breaks up. He sends his cats home ahead of him, wanting them to be able to rest and not having the energy to conjure up a glamour for them. His head feels sluggish from the wine and the volley of seemingly never ending arguments, especially between his cousin and Nerium. He loves Moira, but he worries that her stubbornness is going to get her in trouble one day, no matter how justified she feels in how she acts.
He lets out a sigh, wrapping his arms around himself as he makes his way through the park, much too consumed by his own thoughts to bother calling for a cab of any sort. Besides, he enjoys walking, even if his pace tonight is slowed by both his weariness from the meeting and lingering aspects of last night.
Last night. He finds himself smiling as thoughts and images of Demetri flicker through his mind, those blue eyes, that damned bewitching smile; his cheeks warm at the memories of his scorching kisses and sweeping touches. And then falling asleep with and waking up to the other man the next morning. He makes a wistful noise, not quite a sigh, at the thought of returning to a home without Demetri in it.
Then memories of the witches' meeting creep back into his thoughts again and Fabrice wishes, for once in his life, that he smoked.
He lets out a sigh, wrapping his arms around himself as he makes his way through the park, much too consumed by his own thoughts to bother calling for a cab of any sort. Besides, he enjoys walking, even if his pace tonight is slowed by both his weariness from the meeting and lingering aspects of last night.
Last night. He finds himself smiling as thoughts and images of Demetri flicker through his mind, those blue eyes, that damned bewitching smile; his cheeks warm at the memories of his scorching kisses and sweeping touches. And then falling asleep with and waking up to the other man the next morning. He makes a wistful noise, not quite a sigh, at the thought of returning to a home without Demetri in it.
Then memories of the witches' meeting creep back into his thoughts again and Fabrice wishes, for once in his life, that he smoked.
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"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Demetri says with a laugh, even though he's lying. There's nothing he wouldn't do for his brothers and his sister, even if they drove him crazy sometimes. "Cousins might be nice. There aren't a lot of us. I always used to wonder why."
The curse, again, but he's not going to say that now. Even if he's implied it, he doesn't want to dwell, letting his hand touch Fabrice's as they walk. "Tuesday is council night... Wednesday?"
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Fabrice thinks, from the implications in Demetri's tone, that he is referring to the curse. But he doesn't dwell on it, distracted pleasantly by the feel of Demetri's hand against his own. He smiles. "I work late Tuesdays, so Wednesday would be perfect," he says, already anticipating it.
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“Should I bring take out?” He’s not much of a cook, when it comes down to it. He works late, buying meals or raiding the Thornton kitchens for whatever their cooks have made and left for him. He’s looking forward to it as well, as loathe as he is to admit it aloud. That isn’t to say he doesn’t appreciate food, because he certainly does. “Or are you one of those people who understands what happens in kitchens?”
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He wishes he could say he was something of a chef, but he spent most of his life eating his mother's amazing cooking, and when he'd moved out on his own, considering that the zoo had a cafe of its own as well as having several other places nearby it, eating out just seemed the more suitable option.
"If you bring take out, I'll bring dessert," he offers, already having an idea in mind.
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"I think that's a record, even for me," he says with a laugh. "Burning popcorn? You'll be burning water next."
Demetri is just teasing, and he hopes that Fabrice knows that. "Then I'll bring dinner and dessert..." He takes a step away to look Fabrice up and down hungrily. "I think you'd already have brought that."
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His blushing only increases when Demetri steps away from him and looks at him like he's the shiniest option on the menu, his breathing growing ragged in the process.
"Well, there's always room for two desserts?" It sounds lame as hell, but Fabrice is still working on the whole flirting thing, and to be honest, it's difficult for him to concentrate when Demetri is devouring him with his eyes and he is staring back.
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“Until Wednesday then,” he says softly. Demetri’s smile freezes as he glances over Fabrice’s shoulder, noticing two people in the park chatting and watching them. This walk was too good to be true after all. His face changes, schooling to casual interest, holding out a hand to shake as if this were a business meeting. “I guess we should head off now.”
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As much as it pains him, he watches Demetri's face fall into its usual, carefully composed mask. He tries to do the same with his face, but he knows he's not nearly as structured as the other man's. He shakes his hand and gives him another nod.
"I hope you have a good night," he says, keeping his voice level.